Starts with a Handshake
by Silk Spectre
Summary: Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. What happened on that fifteen hour flight to Karnak? Noncan but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters.IC!Ror: AU end
1. Heat

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

I'm an emotional wreck. Hollis is dead, Laurie is off gallivanting with Jon, and we're off to go face Veidt, who, of all people, may be behind a plot to kill masks. Oh, and I'm stuck with Rorschach, who I broke out of prison and have yet to be thanked for it, though he did awkwardly hold my hand and call me a good friend when I snapped on him earlier. God Damn Rorschach. I'm not even mad at him, I'm just so _stressed_, and bloody uncomfortable. I mean, if he knew what I _thought_ of him, deep down... oh well. Better to not think about it. Too warm for that line of thinking.

"Daniel, Archie running hot. Do something."He's right. Archie is running hot, engines spouting off more heat than needed, nor welcome. He's down to that blood soaked prison shirt, pin stripped pants, and 'face', his suit and gloves folded neatly beside him.I'm still in full suit and cowl, not comfortable to undressed with this man around. I wish I'd kept spare clothes on Archie.

"Nothing to do about it. Better he run cold than hot, we'll be over the arctic circle in little over an hour." Karnac. We're going to Karnac, to face the smartest man in the world and accuse him of senseless murder.

"Hurm." I hate it when he does that. Without being able to see his expression, his real one, it's so hard to figure out what that _means_. What the hell does 'hurm' MEAN?! I'm getting a headache, a bad one. I focus on Rorschach through my goggles, glad he can't see I'm staring. He's so...muscled. Not that I hadn't know that, I've watched him beat the shit out of people on countless occasions... but it still is a bit of a surprise. And the way he looks without his mask. I feel compelled to shift, uncomfortable, but don't want to give away that I'm having an issue. I hate this suit so much right now. Leather was a bad choice. It's too hot, it doesn't breath. This silence is oppressive. It makes me think of the handshake. I wish there hadn't been gloves. Why am I thinking like this? God dammit! Too hot. Too angry. Too oppressive.

"Don't trust miss Juspeczyk." He says it simply, in that monotone of his, before reaching into the pocket of the folded coat and taking out a "Sweet Chariot" sugar cube. the 'ronch' sound he makes as he chews makes me cringe. Rorschach. Quite the enigma. God damned if I can never figure him out. I'm going to break, snap, yell. I don't even care to try and stop it.

"-You- _don't_ or -I- _shouldn't_? God dammit Rorschach, use some grammar!" I start to pace, uncomfortable. Sweat is building where sweat shouldn't build. It's too damned hot. I watch the man in the white mask with black blots pause, swallowing some sugar, lick his delicate seeming lips. He's clean shaven now. From prison, I guess.

"Both, Daniel. Can't be trusted. Whorish; like mother." There's a distant tone to his voice. The heat is getting to him too.

That's more than enough. I slam a closed fist against the wall, getting angrier. "You can't say that! Laurie isn't a whore, and neither is her mother! Sally is a fine woman, you've never even met her! You can't just call a woman a whore, Rorschach!"

"Haven't met. Seen outfit though. Whore. Wasn't referring to Silk Specter though. Hurm."

"Then who the hell were you refering to?! You said 'mother' in there, who's mom were you insulting?! God damn Rorschach, who'd you feel if someone called _your_ mom a whore!"

I watch as he tenses, and something in me shifts, a cold stone of fear taking root in my stomach. He seems to be running over something in his head, something big, I really hope he isn't about to kill me, for whatever it is that I just said. "Daniel....are we friends? Good friends?"

He sounds so childish, and lost. I don't know how he can pull off those two extremes. At a loss, I nod. "Yes Rorschach. We're friends."

"Good. Only friend, Daniel. You're my only friend. I want to talk. About... hurm. About... psychiatrist. Prison psychiatrist."

Again I nod. I fail to see his connections, but that's hardly new to me.

"Didn't like him. Fat, Wealthy. Thinks he understands pain. Called me "Walter". I told him something, Dan. I told him about Rorschach. He knew Walter, Walter Kovacs. I let him know Rorshach. " Another pause, another one of MY sugar cubes going into hus gullet. It's too hot, I can't think. I can only listen.

"Not fair, for him to know Rorschach. Not fair for stranger to know both sides. You're a friend, Daniel. Would you....hurm." He hesitates, and it's just like the handshake. "Would you like to know Walter?"

I nod. I don't trust myself to speak. I'll say something stupid. Like how the freckles on his upper arms are cute, and that I want to count them. That I know he's a ginger, and I like it. That there was a sugar wrapper on the floor that made me think of him when.... I blink the thoughts away, focusing on his gruff monotone.

"Was not particularly bright child. Innocent. Didn't last long. Was exposed to underbelly scum of city before pubescence. Mother a whore, father a good man, moral enough to know when to leave her. His name is Charlie. Moved a lot, each time to a more broken, smellier, nosier home. Cheaper rent. Get what you pay for. American way. Slums. Don't know how old I was when mother started ..... hurm. Taking clients." He twitches there, part of the mask jumping as skin under it jumps.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Rorschach. Must've been hard. I... didn't know. I didn't mean anything by...calling her... almost..." My words are confused, but he knows my meaning, silencing me with a wave of his hand.

"Walter Kovacs got over it. Was able to know it was good that pimp force fed her drain-o one night. Was informed at Charlton Home, place for the offspring of filth unfit to keep their own kin. Sent there after first brush with Rorschach. Instant mask, fruit in my face. Ten years old. Did not find again until 5 years later. Though Walter was weak... found strength. Made face. Disappeared into Rorschach. "

He's skipping over something. He wanted to tell me something with this story, but he lost it, lost the nerve, lost the thread.... I'm not seeing something here."What was Charlton Home like?" I know the place. Breeding ground for young gangs and pedophilia. I pray it wasn't as bad as that when Walter was there.

He pauses, playing with the hem of his 'face', keeping it at the half way mark. God I love watching parts of his actual skin, getting clues as to what he's thinking...it's so hard with just the latex. The swirls go over his eyes, making him look for a moment like a skull. I wish he'd take the damn thing off.

"It was mediocre. Walter was very weak there. Very weak indeed.... took opportunity to learn, though. Very bright. Frustration to teachers when proven wrong. Liberal teachers, stupid ideas, no proof. Hated one teacher. Female. Health class. Bad. Very bad. Dirty."

He's twitching again. I don't understand...

"Don't like women. Dirty creatures. Miss Juspeczyk's a dirty creature. All of them filthy, whorish things. Or innocent, possibly redeemable if removed from the environment of scum. Take a look at her clothes, Daniel, at her suit! Indecent, obscene, impure! She's seducing you, Daniel. You're falling in love with her shape."

So it does come full circle, in a discombobulated way. I don't like what he's saying, his tone reminds me of my father, condemning me for love. "God dammit Rorschach, I'm not falling in love with her shape! I'm not being corrupted, either! I can barely have sex with her, I have to think abo-" I cut myself off. This heat is getting to me. Thankfully he doesn't notice, busying himself with another sugar cube.

"Why bother, Daniel? Why go through motions, pretending? She doesn't love you. You claim not loving her sex. Hurm. You're lying."

"I AM NOT." I say it with more vehemence than I am accustomed to. He tilts his head, letting out that signature 'hurm'. I want to strangle him.

"Fine. Not lying. Something else afoot. Still don't see point. Besides. Pretty woman. Easy woman. Understandable weakness. Odd you don't admit to it... would admit to others... why not me? Why wo-"

I finally lose it, stepping forwards and silencing him, my lips over his. This should answer his question. I'm so hot, and this makes it worse, flushing brightly under my cowl and goggles. His lips taste like sugar, so does his tongue, which isn't moving against mine, but retreating. My arms find his shoulders, which are shaking. It ends too soon, a rough punch in the solar plexus knocking the wind out of me partially as Rorschach stands, hitting me again, punches that would break bones were it not for my armor. I'm soon against the wall, his hits almost like rain. I hear him mutter as he treats me like a punching bag, though I can't see his lips now that he's pulled his mask back down.

"Dirty. Immoral. Obscene. Stirrings. Daniel, bad. Gay. Very Gay. Don't Kiss. Don't _touch_. Daniel's _pure_. Doesn't think gay. Doesn't think like me. No. No no no no no. Trap. Some trap. Why?!" He grows tired of hitting me as I begin to grow lightheaded. He must be aware that he's not actually hurting me.

"WHY DANIEL?" He demands, black and white face a swirl. I try to answer him, something unintelligible getting past my dry rubbery lips. My tongue feels heavy, this is so ... wrong. Something's wrong. The floor's coming up fast.... Rorschach catches me, and I let the black of his mask consume my vision.

* * *


	2. Blood

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

Wish had brought journal after all. Many thoughts. Daniel gay. Had not suspected. Has affections for me. Also unexpected. Daniel fainted from heat exhaustion. Should have seen coming. Clearly delusional due to dehydration. Not gay. Not for me. I may have affections for him, but...Rorschach is pure and strong. This face, this soul, never tarnished by the human pollution of the world, the homosexuals just part of the liberal intellectual decadence, unproductive and filthy. Suppose should help friend.

...............................................Daniel is naked under owl suit. Hurm. Oh well. Must remove or risk further problems. Must try to dispel discomfort. Glad he's male. Leather is sticky, peeling from Daniel's skin while releasing not unpleasant odor. Feel teenage stirrings. Secure face. Rorschach is not tempted. Rorschach is beyond such petty things. Hesitate. Don hair and skin and hands, abandoning disguise and becoming self, free from fear or weakness or lust. Too hot. Quickly remove all but face and hands. Will have to be enough. Begin to fan Daniel, wishing swift recovery. Body reacts, Dan does not. Slumber? Relaxed muscles, steady pulse and breathing. Penis twitches, I skitter to corner like scared schoolchild. Curses. Dan begins to mutter. Sleep talking? Rolls on side, curling. No more visible penis. Good. Daniel's murmurs grow.

"Ror....scach...unf...oh gods..."

Desire to castrate only friend grows exponentially. So does desire for corruption. Body reacting. Need self punishment. Must be razor somewhere. Extensive search of owl ship eventually yields results. Dan now panting under breath, wanton. Whorish. Hardly matters. Warm blood splatters skin, feel at home. Rorschach can deal with pain. Rorschach is at home with blood. Blood, purifying soul, penance. Pain? Rorschach feels none. Walter cries. Daniel needs pain, restraint. Can't hurt Daniel though. Rorschach respects Daniel. Cares. Touch to shoulder, Daniel crying; Hollis is dead. Empty words echoing of revenge and fulfillment. Daniel,....Night Howl...both my friends. Very little change in persona when Dan dons mask. More confidence. Sexie-_Slice._ Bad thoughts. Cut the bits of Walter out. Engrossed, don't notice Daniel waking until too late.

"Rorschach What the FUCK?!?!"

Jolt, pulling legs up, Walter's thighs splattered crimson. Don't expect Daniel's interference, keeping material down, looking.

"Rorschach, you need stitches! Stop this! What the hell are you doing?!"

Naked and looking at my thighs.... punch to Daniel's clavicle results in 'hurk'. Teenage stirrings bad thoughts. Another _Slice_. Stirring doesn't cease. "Go away, Daniel."

He doesn't let go, instead grabbing hand, wrestling for razor.

"You have a goddamn erection, Rorschach This is what gets you off? Bleeding?! Jesus...."

I look down at him and whisper 'no'. One more slice, stirrings fade to pull up legs.

Again Daniel stops process. "Explain yourself!"

"Bad thoughts. Removal necessary."I tug pants. Daniel tugs back. I let go, letting him sprawl, legs snapping open before he gets up and walks away, watching from corner. Good view. Bad thought. _Slice._

Continue to cycle of pain and penance, good and bad, winning eventually. Walter evicted, though was reluctant today. Bloody razor cast aside. Stand. Rorschach pure. Daniel picks up razor, cleaning. Silence. Daniel has my pants. Not comfortable in just undergarments. Feel faint... Faint? No. Feel fantastic. Rorschach feels no pain. Strong, pure, practical. Blood on floor of Owl Ship. Wonder why. Ought to clean it. ...Feel need to sit. Daniel talking at me now, am on floor. Don't remember sitting. Where are pants? Dan shines light in my face. I bat away his hand. Too close, he's too close, stirrings.... No.... Don't care...more blood, on hands and floor... unconcerned. Rorschach doesn't bleed. Sleepy time. So tired. Must remember to remove skin before sleeping, didn't before. Risk. Stiff fingers slowly peel my face from my head. Daniel looks upset. I smile at him.

"There there, love. Everything better in morning." I watch his face turn to shock before his small smile is the last thing I see, falling into a welcome slumber.


	3. Walter

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

Rorschach's a suicidal sonofabitch. Though I guess one could say the same for me, keeping that damn cowl and suit on until I passed out. I feel far better this way, though it's awkward to think that Rorschach's seen me naked. Even more awkward to think that he was the one to remove my clothes. And..he's gay? News to me. But... he just called me 'love'...and...and _SMILED._ Which is why the stitches on his thighs are so damn necessary. He's lost a lot of blood, in some semi-erotic cleansing, or something. I know Rorschach has issues, but self-loathing to this extent? Hating the man behind the mask, for being 'weak' and 'dirty'? God Dammit he thinks like my father.

Done another batch of stitches, think that's the last of them. Glad he's more or less passed out. No way he'd let me this close to him when he's awake, even if he's let me tend wounds in the past. The kiss I gave him lingers on my lips, Sweet Chariot and dry skin. I shiver, though it's still hot. Not a good time to think about it. It's clear I'm not impotent. God, what would Laurie think, knowing I like _Rorschach_. That she's like her _mother_ was for Hooded Justice, a cover, nothing more. If she knew that I preformed well in Archie because of a misplaced sugar cube wrapper and the reminder of old times, with Rorschach at my side, sexual tension making great energy to catch criminals with.

Yes, that is the last stitch, I've triple checked. There's scar tissue all through his thighs, getting dangerously close to his femoral artery. He has to stop, he's going to end up killing himself. I wish I could make him see, but there's never been any arguing with Rorschach. Damn it, I _will_ make him see. I can't let him keep damaging himself like this. Again, I'm glad he's not awake. These must hurt something awful. He always has had a high pain tolerance though. Maybe this is why.

Jesus Christ. I can't stop thinking about what he said. "There there love, everything better in morning". He called me _LOVE_. I didn't think he had any concept of the emotion, and.... Jesus Christ. Kind of heavy, hard to swallow. Especially considering he punched the shit out of my suit after a simple kiss. But no, that was because he doesn't want ... to be happy? With himself? Damn, Rorschach is complicated. All I can do is sigh, and move a lock of hair from his forehead. I really like his hair. It's got such a rich color to it. Another sigh. I hope he doesn't wake up.

I press a pad soaked with alcohol into his thigh. He twitches, and I can tell from his eyes he's awake, though they're still closed. He's pretending he's asleep. I don't think he knows his mask is off. I put more alcohol on and press it to the other thigh, trying to get the disinfectant past the stitches. Yes, his muscles tense differently. He's awake. I'm not going to let on I know though. The waiting game is one I know how to play. Owls wait hours for their prey some nights. He shifts, testing his strength subtly. I lay some bait, keeping voice a murmur so there isn't much for him to analyze.

"Hope he wakes up soon....lots to talk about."

A long pause. I continue cleaning the cuts Rorschach has, being as gentle as possible. I try to ignore the obvious arousal that's happening for him, making his underwear shift. Watch him bite his lip, clearly thinking he's got his 'face' on, before allowing himself a needy whimper. Men can't be responsible for their dreams, he's going to pretend to talk in his sleep, to get information. I'm proud of him. Far more subtle than breaking my fingers.

"Hurm. Love....Daniel. . Bad." He twitches, and the shifting his underwear grows. I choose my words carefully, keeping voice a breathless whisper, not wanting him to know I'm faking.

"Huh. Nothing wrong with homosexuality. I'll have to tell him that when he wakes up." I start to put away the sewing kit, the medical packs. Fairly certain he opened an eye, but can't be sure. If so, then he's aware he's not wearing his mask. I should proceed with caution, but this is such a good opportunity. "I also have to let him know he's a good kisser."

Rorschach's fist comes from nowhere, connecting with my nose, cracking but not breaking it. Luckily it doesn't bleed, or even really swell. Next hit will though break it though, and I cringe. Next hit doesn't land. Rorschach is staring at me, pouting. He is a lot easier to read without the mask."No lies, Daniel. Will not be mocked. First kiss stolen. Pissed off." I stare. Is he _blushing_?! No. Must be my imagination. His cheeks are not matching his hair right now. Completely not. He is clearly flustered. "Not gay. I'm not gay!"

I don't say anything, just pointedly look at his crotch and raise my eyebrows, my own cheeks going red."If.... and I'm saying _IF_" I enunciate when his hands curl into fists again. "**_IF_** you're gay....that'd be more than okay with me, Rorschach. You've always done okay by me."

"But... but homosexuals.... indecent. Perverts."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustrated. "Rorschach. You've known me a long time..."

"Yes. Long. Best friend, Daniel. Only friend. Good friend. Love wreck it. Love make you hate me." I have the distinct feeling he'd rather be hitting me, but knows that he's too weak to hurt me badly, what with blood loss. Also, he seems more open without his mask on.

"Rorschach. Have I ever done _anything_ perverse? I'm a square for God's sake. And you _stalk_ me."

He deliberates on that one, eventually shaking his head sourly. "Fine. Not perverts. Still _wrong_. Dirty."

I sigh. He tries to move, winces, whimpers. I look at him with concern.

"Never cut so deep before." He bites his lip, underwear getting tent like as his eyes linger on me for a moment, making me blush darker. "Where's razor? Where's face? Need Rorschach. Walter is bad."

I shake my head. "No. I'm not going to let you hurt yourself anymore."

"At least give face. And pants. Want pants! And face. Want face more. Need face. Give me Rorschach, Daniel."

I again shake my head, slower this time, speaking quickly before he can hit me. "You promised I could know Walter!"

He seems floored, thinking. "Hurm...." He looks up with clear blue eyes, flecks of green in them. I could fall into those eyes forever. The flicker with pain though. I frown, and he bites his lip. The word 'adorable' comes to mind, but I value my ribs, so don't say anything.

"Walter....is in pain. Walter...needs comfort. Walter is gay, and needs Daniel, and is a horrible horrible person."

I blink, and very cautiously pull my best friend into a hug, trying not to be too awkward despite the fact I'm naked and he's in a shirt and his underwear. I'm shocked as I feel his arms respond, though belatedly, and slowly, unsure. Giving him a few pats on the back, he seems to gain courage, sugar coated lips on my neck, then brushing my ear.

"Walter loves you, Daniel."

"I know, Ror-...Walter. I know."


	4. Orgasm

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle) Thanks so much to my informal beta, vaudeville.

* * *

Hugging naked Daniel. Stirrings persistent. Groin afire. Scum scum scum! Rorschach wouldn't do this. Rorschach would NEVER do this. Rorschach not be so weak, vulnerable, twisted. Overwhelming, even for Walter, who's capable of such things. Hadn't had such sensations since showers at Charlton. Since getting thrown against wet wall, called 'fag', beat up. Allowed it to happen, though did not like. Allowed sin to be beaten from skin as a child, evil not supposed to return, years later, watching an owl man blushingly turn down whore. Slowly, arms entwine around him, choking back tears as flash of memory, my mother, this position, random man. Hope Daniel doesn't hurt me.

Blood loss and pain make head swim. Scared but desperate, needing more, though of what? Don't know. Not sure of self nor situation nor needs. Gently imitate the filth on television. Press lips to Daniel's neck. Hear gasp, see gooseflesh. Almost chuckle. Bring lips to his ear, keeping voice low. "Walter loves you, Daniel."

Tells me he knows. Stomach does unpleasant flip. Mouth feels dry. Shaky. Push away, ignoring pain in thighs. May be sick.

"Rorschach, are you okay?"

I shake my head, croaking to him, trying not to look, glancing up against better judgment. "Not Rorschach. Walter."

"Walter, what's wrong?" Concern in voice is poignant. Shoulders shake harder, chest tight. Don't want to lie.

"Scared."

"Of...? It's okay Walter...it's okay." He grabs his goggles, slipping them on. Looks appealing. Powerful. Takes me into arms again.

Am trembling. "This. These. Feelings. Pain. Love. You. Me. List long. Walter a coward." Tremble again. Curse weakness. Am only human.

"What can I do? How can I help?" Daniel hesitates, smiles. About to tell a joke. "Let me rescue you."

Punch to his chin, lightly. Playfully? "Not Damsel. Despite distress. Dammit." Alliteration annoys me. Daniel chuckles. At ease with me. Daniel moves in to kiss again, hesitating, hovering with lips mere inches from mine. Arch up to peck, awkward, blushing. Feels nice, despite fear. Fear feels nice? No. Dirty. Not nice... stirrings more obvious, throbbing occurring. Was I injured? Bite lip.

"Ow... Daniel..."I shift, voice ... whiny? Disgusting.

"Well yeah R...Walter, you sliced yourself up really bad. Of course it hurts. Do you need some painkillers? Where is it the worst?"

Shake head. No drugs. "Not thighs..." Take hand, first putting it to head. Chest. Hesitation. Knee.

"You've got a headache, you're chest hurts...probably emotional pain..., and....Your knee hurts, Walter?

Shake head. Don't be coward. Move hand again. Landing closer, still wrong. "Your hip?"

Again shake head. Blushing brightly. Can't. Can't do this. Throbbing in underwear unbearable, must know if sustained damage. Splutter something juvenile, squirming. So immature. Can't talk about this subject matter.

"Ror-...Walter. Walter what's _wrong?_"

Pout. "Penis feels funny." Hide behind red bangs. Wait for Daniel to laugh, like teacher. No laughter. Look up, goggles showing my reflection, startlingly close. Breathless. Throbbing worse. Daniel kisses me, deeper. Tongue. Allow allow encouragement, moving lips.. Dan breaks it off, looking at me. Am unaccustomed to such attention.

"Hurm. Not helpful. In fact, worse."

"Yes, I figured as much... I... I don't know what you want me to do to you, Walter. I can't tell you what you want."

"Want pressure to go away. Hurting. Not badly. Can ignore if needed."

"...I can make the pressure go away... I just don't want you to have any regrets. You'd have to _let_ me help you." Daniel looks worried. Tries to hide it, glad he's wearing goggles.

Make him look stronger. Rest of suit is just to left, on floor. Like body leather, Daniel's skin soft. Startled from observations. Daniel shifting my underwear waistband. I growl, he lets go, kissing my cheek."This is _exactly_ what I was talking about. How can I help if you won't let me?"

Eyes narrow, lips forming tight line. "Promise not to harm."

"Promise. On Socrates." He laughs dryly. I fail to see humor. "_Relax_."

He's insistent. I am reluctant. Slowly let my muscles go, watching him closely as he shifts my underwear down, exposing me. Feel very awkward, and his clear arousal seems like conflict of interests.

Head reeling. Eyes very wide, muscles re-clenched. Daniel... he... he _licked_ me. Feel faint. He's grinning. Felt...good? Nudge hips upwards. Body knows better than I do. Wants more. Cannot deny it. Panting. One lick, world shifts. Makes me remember. Dan licking lollipop. Before Keen act. Had purged night following, due to arousal. Now make the connection, why my body found Daniel's lips desirable, his tongue... ah, his tongue.

Body a mass of shivers, covered in sweat, and he licks again. Throw head back, noises coming from throat. Sound like whore. Bite lip instead. Taste blood. No compromises. Will not make more . So...overwhelming. Daniel sucks? Don't know, can't tell. Losing self in ecstasy. No compromises! Daniel pauses. Almost whimper. No compromises.

"I want to hear you..." His whisper, sultry. His request impossible. Open mouth to answer. Moan falls out. Curses. Daniel resumes. Only compromise for Daniel. Only once.

Heaving breath and groans, moans.... fists clench and unclench, toes curl. Joints crack. Daniel's chuckling around my length. Fail to see the humor. Fail to see a lot of things. Feel burning in pit of stomach. Whimper in self-concern. Daniel is destroying me from the inside out. Soul is going to char from all the sin. Going to scream, Daniel lied! Hurts, burns! Feels so good... want it to be hotter. Already unbearable, but want more. Masochistic? Can't think.

He's bobbing his head. Looks silly. Feels amazing. Words are tumbling from lips before considered. Swears. Unclean language. Down right inappropriate. Daniel's name several times. Beyond caring if I'm saying the wrong thing, so long as he doesn't stop. Ball of fire in stomach growing, getting hotter. Feel it start to tear, and suddenly it bursts. Electricity runs through blood, hips jerk. Mind falls into whiteness with black lights. Like mas-Face.

Slow decent to normality. Pant out two words. "Love, Daniel."


	5. Gamble

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

Walter tastes like salty pineapple. I've never had salty pineapple before, but if I ever have it, this is what I expect it to taste like. Rather overwhelming, though not unwelcome or even that unpleasant. It's certainly better than expected, that's for sure. I can't suppress the goofy grin on my face as I sit up, listening to the raspy pant of my best friend. "Love, Daniel."

His voice gives me shivers, and the context makes me blush brightly. "Uh... I love you too, um...Walter." I'm trying to get used to his name, it seems really important to him. He looks... well, like he's been sexed. His hair's a mess, his mouth is open, his eyes shut tight. Slowly he opens them, body undulating, muscles trying to become tense again, not accustomed to such release. Was this his first blow job?....Probably. Actually, I'm almost certain it's a yes. Which is sad, he must be so lonely. I had always kind of hoped he'd had a girlfriend to go home to after a night of busting heads. That was back in the day though, before things got so complicated.

I get shaken out of my thoughts as Walter tenses and skirts away, scooting across the floor, away from me.

"Sorry Daniel. Very sorry. Didn't intend.... well, of course I intended..... Sorry. So sorry. You made me. No fair."

I stare blankly. "Uh... about what? Walter, what's wrong?"

"Face, Daniel. " He points to my chin, flustered. I blush, wiping what I didn't swallow with the back of my hand.

"Not a big deal. No harm done, it's fine..." I smile at him, use a calming voice. "It's fine, Walter, I promise. It's good, you ... " I hesitate, and blush. "You taste pretty good." I stand, trying to feel natural rather than awkward in my nakedness, and start searching Archie for something cool to drink. I know I have something here, somewhere.

He's scowling, I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my neck. "Almost wish you were lying, Daniel. Not sure what to make of 'tasty' semen."

I crack up, leaning against one of the rounded walls, laughing. It's all I can do, take a page from Blake, laugh it out. Walter slowly smiles, though I'm not sure if he finds funny what I find funny. Hell,_ what _in this damned situation is funny? Chuckles petering out, I resume my searching, finally finding a case of coke, old green-glass bottles, in the back of a refridgeration unit. It's still too hot in here, these will be good... I see Walter staring, and hand him one, of course. He marvels at it.

"American love."

"What?"

He leans back, clearly quoting something, though damned if I know what Walter reads. "Offered Swedish love and French love...but not American love. American love-, like coke in green-glass bottles...they don't make it anymore..." He leans forward, done his quote, opening his bottle. "Cute, Daniel. Cute."

I chuckle. "Thanks. They do make it, you just have to special order, like the sugar cubes."

"Most extravagant Jew in existence, Daniel."

I frown. "How'd you know about that?" I'm not really comfortable with this line of conversation. Funny, I'd be more comfortable on my knees in front of Walter again, then talking about yet _another_ reason my father was disappointed in me.

"Lucky guess. Jewish last name. More Kosher food in fridge than non, though clearly lapsed. Old skull cape and menorah in kitchen closet. Bar Mitsva picture in bedside table drawer."

"You're joking." It takes me more than a moment to remember that I _do_ have a picture of that, in my bedside drawer. "I... God dammit Rorsch-"

"Walter" He corrects me, cutting me off.

"Don't snoop."

"Too late."

He's amused. He's smiling. "You don't just waltz around someone's house when they're not home, looking through their stuff to figure out what religion they are!"

"Should be more bothered by anger. Can't work up energy to worry. Daniel is appealing when mad."

... Well, I can't argue with that. I can only half sulk, my ego boosted by the comment. "Still, Walter, that's rude. Hell, what'd you have done if I'd come home and you were in my room?!"

"Jumped out window if necessary."

He's joking ... it's like the old days. It's like before the Keene Act, before the riots. Just the two of us sitting around drinking coke, shooting the breeze before doing some rounds. Though to be honest, back in the day I would be wearing a lot more, and he wouldn't be sitting with blood on his thighs.

"Seriously, Walter. What if I came home?"

"You always spent Friday nights with Hollis, out late, often until at least midnight. Plenty of time. If caught unawares, you don't check under your bed before sleeping. Very thoughtless, Daniel. Always considered telling you, never got brought up."

I'm floored. Shit. "Friday nights...under....my bed....you...!?!?"

"Now who needs grammar, Daniel? Yes."

"But.... " I blush. I know damn well what I do in bed most Friday nights, thoughts of the good days going through my head, adventures with Rorschach, beating up bad guys, wearing the leather... thank God I don't think I ever said his name, I'm more of a 'whimper and moan' guy than a talker. That would be worse. but even so, this is ... embarrassing.

"But what, Daniel?" His tone is so innocent, but I _know_ he's faking. He's trying to make me more flustered. He's toying with me!

"But nothing. Let's get back to you harping on me for being Jewish."

"No. More fun, watching you squirm."

I blush, taking his comment the the indecent way first. "Huh. You're fun to watch squirm too."

I pride myself on catching the punch. I might be out of shape, but he's almost out of blood. "Don't mock, Daniel."

"Don't toy, Walter." I imitate. He's not happy with that, lips curling back a bit.

"I'll have you know damn well I can talk however the fuck I want, Dan. Don't tell me you've forgotten back when full sentences were normal for me."

I'm impressed. Pleased, and impressed. I sling an arm around my disgruntled buddy. "I haven't heard you talk like that in a long time. A very long time." There's a sadness to my words.

He knows how I feel. "Don't take personally. Not your fault." He pauses, closing eyes, going to that same pose he had when quoting the coke thing. " ' Hey Daniel, I'm going to take on that kidnapping case. Can I do it alone? Just a little girl, probably only one persecutor. See you after, right?' ... said yes. Went alone.... changed. Sorry."

"That case really messed you up." I mutter the words, thoughtlessly.

".......... "He looks at me with a deadpan face. "Really? Hadn't noticed. Only lost hope in humanity. No big deal."

It's hard to tell if he's joking right now. Somehow I think it's supposed to be a joke, but the kind no one laughs at. These thoughts make me miss The Comedian.

Walter burrows into my side slightly, some attempt at cuddling. It's cute. "Are we there yet?"

"No, and we won't be for hours... Archie's fast, but Veidt is far."

"Hurm." I'm on my back, pounced, before I know it. Walter's pinned me, and I can't say I object to the situation. "Don't wish for boredom. Could very well die in arctic snows. Make best of company and resources available."

"You're not going to die, Walter. If you die. I'll sleep with Laurie while actually thinking about her." I shudder. He laughs, a leg either side of me, extending his hand for a shake.

"Deal."

I chuckle and shake on it.


	6. Tease

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle) Thanks so much to my informal beta, vaudeville.

* * *

"You're not going to die, Walter. If you die. I'll sleep with Laurie while actually thinking about her." Daniel shudders, movement under me not unpleasant. Slightly painful to marked up thighs, but over all not unpleasant. I laugh. Odd sound, slightly foreign. Missed it. Extend hand, wishing to make this arrangement true. All in jest. Won't happen.

"Deal."

Handshake like old ones. No sexual tension, no embarrassment. Two very good friends. Daniel tugs hand down, confusing me. Brings back of hand to lips, chaste kiss. Blush and look away. "Gay, Daniel. Very gay."

"And what I did earlier wasn't? You seemed to enjoy it..."

Pout. Not fair. "Taking advantage, Daniel. Underhanded. Dirty. Won't warn again: Don't mock."

"Or what?" Tone is superior.

Not liking this. Need control. Liked look on his face when used full sentences. Think for short time, piecing together words before saying. Adopt Veidt-like tone. Is fitting. "Need I remind you, Daniel, who is currently on top? Watch your tongue, watchman."

He squirms. Under me. Very pleasant. Daniel very aroused by short speech. Feel proud. Reasonable? Hurm. Turn slightly, taking bottle of American Love, having sip. Daniel thrusts up abruptly. Almost spill. Surprised, put bottle down and pin him firmly. Am confused. "Trying to knock me off?"

He smirks. "Perhaps."

"Not kind, Daniel." Pout. He does it again!"Stop it!"

He smirks, hips rubbing mine. "Don't like grinding, Walter? Your body does...."

Damned body. Betraying me. Not right, not clean. Daniel moving against me. Not okay. Not alright. "Stop it Daniel, or-"

"Or what?" His smirk is wider. His intentions mesh, finally. Wants to see what I will do. He wants me to.... Revulsion. Stand, striding away.

"Don't mock, Daniel. Being a prick. Big Jewish prick. Think me a whore? Bastard...."

"Walter... don't do this..." He's whining, sounds like a man that uses whores. Wants to use me. Bastard. Filth. He keeps talking. Don't want to listen. Some joke, about his 'big jewish prick' mocking me. Warned him. Stands, walking towards me. Wait until he's in arm's length...punch to stomach. Hard. Knock wind out.

"Warned you. Don't mock."

"J-Jesus." He murmurs, after coughing.

I glare. "Think me a whore. Bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard!" Want to hit something. All men the same. Daniel, no better than mother's clients. Start pacing, very angry. Feel Daniel's arms around me. From behind. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Frozen. Can't move. Feel breath on back of neck. Gooseflesh.

"You're not a whore, Walter. I never said that. I'd never say that."

"Want to use me. Want to hurt me. Want sex. Don't love me. Love isn't real."

"That's not true. You know that's not true." Voice is honest. Hands are wandering. Touches hip. Rubs against me. BASTARD.

"Fuck. Off."

He stands down. "Walter..... " He sounds sad. Don't care. Can't care. Guilt trip. Not going to work.

"Yes, Daniel?" Tone icy. Good. Don't comprimise. Did so once already. Very bad.

"I'm sorry."

Catches off guard. Spin to face him. "Take off goggles."

He does. Like his eyes. Bad time, think of eyes later. "Repeat, Daniel."

"I'm...sorry."

Is telling truth. Hurm. "About? Be specific."

"Upsetting you."

Again, honest. More though, not whole truth. I prompt. "And?"

"And I wish I didn't feel the way I do, if it upsets you. However... I can't change that ... well...." Trails off. Can't quite get meaning. Seems apologetic though. Let it go. Still feel mild anger. More uncertainty, though. Confused.

Don't like confusion. Beckon Dan closer, still displeased look on face. Pin him to wall with ease, stare into his eyes. "Promise no harm."

He's startled. But still aroused. Hurm. "I promise, Walter. I don't want to hurt you. I'd never hurt you."

"Self defense?"

He hesitates. "Maybe. But I hope you don't want to hurt me so badly that I need self defense. I hope that we're good. We're still friends. Right?"

"Hurm." Slow nod. Let him go, throw punch. Make it slower, weaker, off center. Let him catch it, left hand coming in next. Sparring. Toying with him, true, but... only because I don't want to harm him. Want to touch, feel... my way.

He's confused. Good. Knows my perspective. Sparring gets more heated. Coke spills. More touching, more connections. Daniel gets a punch in, to my face. Growl. Hit back. Passion? Living. Good to be alive. More, more! Soon have him pinned, on the floor again. Kiss him hard, bite his lips. Arousal for both of us. Good though. My way.

Suddenly confused again. What now? More kissing. Kissing alright. Daniel's hands snake up my waist. Pin back down. Voice gruff, husky.

"No."

He lets out a pleased whimper, small smile. "Please, Walter...please..."

More confusion. Rough kiss to neck, light bite. "Please what?"

He mumbles. Almost slap him. Glare. Demand answer. "PLEASE WHAT?!"

He cringes, gently arching under me, not like before...same movement. Gentler. "I...want.... you. Please."

Begging. Interesting. Keep glare in place. "How so?"

Lets out frustrated moan. I chuckle.

"You know damned well what I want, Walter. Goddamn Tease."

"Now now, don't get uppity, Jew Boy." Smile. Bothering Daniel is fun. He's seething, and squirming.

"I'm not Jewish! Well...not really! I'm lapsed! I'm gay! Goddammit Walter, let me up!"

"No!" The word is simple, and childish. Haven't felt like this in years.

"Walter! Come on, don't be a dick!"

"Isn't that just what you want me to be? A dick? For you?" Watch Daniel blush, turn away. Briefly unpin one arm to give gentle slap to face. Seemed gentle to me. Perhaps not so much to Daniel. Oops. "Answer me!"

"Ow..... fine. Yes."

Awkward silence. "Sorry for slap. Was neccisary. Don't evade me."

"Bossy bitch."

"Flamboyant Jew."

"Psycho."

"Quitter!"

Dan pauses. Victory is mine?

"Cock-tease."

......ouch. Not 'whore', true. But... ouch.

"Liar."

"Prove it."

Another pause. "Hurm." Can't let Daniel win. "How?"


	7. Rape

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

"Hurm.... how?"

Is he toying with me? Do I give him suggestions? Guidance? Would that make him feel 'whorish' again? Too complicated! Better give him an answer though, my cheek still stings from him slapping me. Bastard. Sexy goddamn bastard. May as well say what's on my mind.

"Fuck me. Do whatever you want. Just don't tease me any longer, Walter."

"Hurm. Sure, Daniel? Isn't premarital sex sin?"

"Too late. Don't care. Fuck, Rorschach, stop it!"

"Stop what?...It's Walter... Rorschach isn't here to save you, Daniel."

He moves against me, making me gasp. His tone, his coy tone... so irresistible. He _could_ be a whore if he wanted."Ba-bastard."

"Homosexuality a sin too, right? Hurm. Fear for soul, Daniel. Hell not pleasant."he puts his lips to my ear. "Very hot."

He's laughing at me. This isn't fair. He's...he's trying to distract me. Yes. He's trying to get me angry so I won't think about the throbbing need he's grinding against. I might not be Adrien, but that doesn't mean I'm _stupid_.

"Stop changing the subject." I pause to pant, moving against him feels good.... "Or are you pussying out, cock-tease?"

"Can't imagine the damage, Daniel. Know how homosexuals have sex. Not stupid. Painful. Sure, Daniel?"

"Very goddamn sure. Just...do it! Do it!"

He hesitates, every moment making it worse. After a moment of deliberation, He pins my hands above my head, using one hand, his right. I think he's left handed...everything seems to slow, everything is so vivid...spits on his left hand. Takes too long for me to piece together why, then blush, squirming. Preparing himself takes too long. He's stalling. He won't look at me, either. Damn.

"God dammit. What's wrong, Walter?"

"Can't. Can't. Won't. Scared. Won't hurt Daniel. Not a brute."

Enough of this. I've been worked up too far for this kind of behavior. If there is much more delay, the blue balls I'll get will rival 's. Though I should respect Walter's issues, right now, I simply can't make myself care. Both my hands against his bad arm, I manage to pin him. No easy feat, have to press advantage while I have it. Thank God he's made himself slick, or this would be madness. Doing all I can to make sure he doesn't stop me, I force myself on him, taking him in me.

Takes a moment for the pain to register. I let my body weight take me down all the way, taking in his whole length. This hurts like a bitch but I can't let him know. His nails are scrabbling Archie's floor, his eyes are rolling back. I'm more worried about him than myself. Up. Down. Up. Down. Knees cracking. I can't do this. Doesn't hurt as much now though, just had to get used to it.....

"D-D-Dammit, D-Daniel."

I try not to just 'unf', but say real words... I almost fail. "Y-Yes, Walter?"

"Using me. Not a toy. Not a whore. Bastard. Rape." Oh shit. I brace myself as he flips us back to how we were before, my head hitting the floor hard. He thrusts to enunciate his words. "_Fuck_ing _Bas_tard." I wince. He's making me bleed.

"Ah...W-Walter...y-you're hu-hurting me..."

"Want to stop now? Make up mind, Daniel."

He has me there, I don't want him to stop. My fingers dig into his shoulders, tears pricking at my eyes as I feel his...sweat or tears? Not sure which. Feel some liquid from him falling on my chest. "Oh Gods, don't stop. Please don't stop."

He doesn't.

I've heard, from discreet sources, that the prostate, when hit, causes extreme orgasms. That that's the point of male to male sex. I don't know if that's true. For me, the point of what's happening right now is the look on Walter's face, the blissed out, completely focused on how he's feeling, dare I say _selfish_ look. I love it. Feeling him inside me gives me a sense of pride, though it's painful, and touching myself to bring myself to climax when he does is a goal.

Panting above me, Walter opens his eyes, his amazing eyes, and kisses my forehead, still thrusting. "Okay, Daniel? Sorry..."

"I'm...amazing. Don't stop....I love you..."

"But.." He interrupts himself with a moan. I love the sound. I want to hear more, wrapping my legs around him. I start pulling his shirt off, a tad belatedly, letting my hands roam his chest.

He doesn't disappoint me, moaning louder, thrusting harder and deeper, my back shifting on the floor. One hand my member, the other one clawing his chest, suddenly I see bright lights, almost forgetting how to breath, lungs stalling before pulling up a gasp. He's hit it. That thing, that place. "Oh Walter!" I yell, eyes shut tight, holding onto Walter desperately. "Walter, Walter, THERE..."

Each thrust, coupled with my patient playing, brings me closer and closer to the edge, the abyss. He's close too, his arms are trembling, and he's getting louder by the second. "W-Walter, I'm...I'm going to..."

He nods, understanding, or pretending to, and with a few more thrusts I finish, screaming his name, arms and legs locked around him, seed splattering our chests. Seconds after, I feel him arrive, tensing harshly as he does so. It's an odd feeling, to be filled like that... he pulls out immediately after, tiredly muttering apologies before laying his head on my shoulder, the both of us trying to catch our breath.

As soon as he can breathe properly, Walter starts shaking, raising his voice to say "sorry" repeatedly. He stares at our torsos in horror, and seems at a terrified loss of what to do with the mess on his stomach.

"Dirty. Dirty. Fuck. No. Dirty. Sorry. Sorry Daniel. You made me. No fair. No fair Daniel!"

"It's okay, Walter! It's alright! Calm down. Breathe. Jesus Christ." He's going into shock. Is he allergic to me or something? No; just emotional issues. He's so adorably mental. Wouldn't mother be proud, to see my lover. Did I fall for a doctor or a lawyer? Naw. A psychopath that's allergic to semen is far better. Makes me almost glad she's dead, so she doesn't have to see this.

Walter's crying, I can't stand to see him like this. I bully him up, ignoring the sharp pain when I move too fast, not wanting to make him feel worse. There's a emergency chemical shower somewhere around here.... ah, there. It takes a good deal of pushing to keep Walter still and pull the lever, instantly drenching us both. There's no soap, regrettably, but it's better than nothing. To my surprise, Walter fights being held under the spray as much as possible, making it difficult to rinse him off.

"God dammit, What _now_?!"

"Fluoride in water. Jewish conspiracy! Let me out! Stop! No!"

I laugh, not letting go of my sex weakened lover, making him suffer the stupid 'conspiracy'. The shower is short, it's not meant to be used for cleaning, and we're soon standing, dripping wet and naked, in Archie.

"Where in hell did you hear that?"He mumbles, I can barely make out the words. "New Frontiersman? That messed up right wing paper? You're kidding me. I'm surprised they're allowed to publish that kind of bull."

"Hurm. Not bull. Shut up. Wet now. Not happy." He looks like a soaked cat. A bit more searching of Archie, and I find fire blankets, using one to dry off, tossing him another, and sharing one with him, handing over a lukewarm bottle of coke.

"There there, Walter. You'll be okay. You used to bath regularly, once upon a time..."


	8. Future

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle) Thanks so much to my informal beta, vaudeville.

* * *

"There there, Walter. You'll be okay. You used to bath regularly, once upon a time..."

"Hurm." Tired. Very tired. Impact of actions settling in. Slept with Daniel. Showered with Daniel. Am currently cuddling with Daniel. Naked. Deeper understanding of criminal mentality. Euphoria caused by ejaculation motivation in self for rape, abuse, murder. Always knew Sex, Money, and Drugs reasons behind violent action. Now _understand_. Gives upset feeling, physically. Nausea. Stress. Silently nudge into Daniel for comfort. Daniel babbling about old times. Don't care to listen. Sleepy.

Also, wet. Don't like wet. Rain another matter. Tap water disgusting. Know sewers, pipes. Though perhaps Archie water different? Hurm. Must consider further. But not now. On trip back. Assuming survival, of course. Still not certain. Veidt and I never friendly. Disdain for decadent liberal ways. Immoral, hedonistic. Rich. Could put money to far better uses. Also, whore. Not sexually; socially. Prostitute, giving image for masses, for money. _Nostalgia_ smells decent, however. Daniel wears it. Stole some from dresser, two days ago.

Like smelling like Daniel. Gives warm feeling...where do we stand now? Lovers? Idea sounds silly. Good friends who have sex? Immoral. Very immoral. Sex takes place in marriages. No. Can't marry Daniel. Sillier than 'lovers'. The Hiroshima lovers back home not need think of such things. Black paint on red brick, no problems. Just stay perfectly entwined, looking into each other's shadow eyes. Romantic thoughts. Hurm. New. Fresh. Exciting. Hope? Hurm. Hope for life with Daniel...

Makes stomach flutter. Fight crime again, side by side. Clean up streets, rid city of evil. A team. Partners. Just he and I, sprinting rooftops, in moonlight. Breaking fingers and backs, doing our part against the darkness, the cancer that wishes to spread to the few worth saving. Hurm. Daniel currently over weight. Would have to train first. At home. Who's home? Do I live with him now? Never asked. Should I? Imposing, presumptuous. Not sure. Etiquette never strong suit.

Reasonably sure currently have no fixed address. Landlady likely to not welcome me back. Walter now wanted for Rorschach's "crimes". City a sick sick man, blaming a doctor for prescribing Chemo and losing hair along with cancer cells. Not terminal. Not yet. Won't let the bastard die, even as he tries to stab me.

Stabbing. Hurm. Veidt ever use knives? Don't think so. Never recall Adrien using weapons. Fists against Comedian once, rumor says. Early days. Comedian beat him. Further motivation for Blake's death? No. Though proud, sounds too _stupid_ for Adrien. Also doesn't explain list, Pyramid, or assassination attempt. No, tension between Blake and Adrien irrelevant, though interesting. Adrien Veidt. Smartest man on the cinder.

Possibly homosexual? Never investigated further. No longer wish to. Opinion on homosexuals changed drastically recently. Opinion of Veidt remained same. He thinks of me like Miss Juspeczyk does, with arrogance and condensation. Woman believes me a maggot, certainly. Veidt sees... worm? No, he realizes my intelligence. Dog? Mutt to be put on different scent, and kicked when not following directions? Hurm. Been kicked a lot. Doesn't stop me. Veidt should realize. Won't. Hubris gets in way of even the most common of senses.

Enough dark thoughts for now, bright outside. Over snow. Getting colder, nudge into Daniel more. Suggestion of getting dressed comes up. Have to admit it sensible. Hesitate when putting on...inkblots. Daniel notices, smiles.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, Daniel."

"Then we'll be fine."

I smile too, though uncertain. Laytex consumes Walter Kovaks. Rorschach. Rorschach does not love Daniel Dreidberg Rorschach does not love Nite Owl. Rorschach loves the night, and the offerings she sometimes gives, opportunities to do good. Rorschach loves self, and vengance. Rorschach does not know love as it stands between a man and a woman, nor a man and a man....But even Rorschach is not cruel. Rorschach will never tell Nite Owl that he can't love. Third person thoughts cause headache. Work to do, man to kill. Because Ozymandias and I shall meet for a final time. Only one of us shall leave the blinding snow. I hope it's me.


	9. Crash

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

I watch him put on his mask, and all I can do is frown. I don't want to lose the Walter I've found. I don't want to have to give him up, have him replaced by Rorschach, even if it is because of Rorscach that I had any interest in Walter in the first place. It's hard being in love with someone who had a split personality disorder. If I could just know what he's thinking under that thing, know if he needs comfort, or distance, or... or something. Is he all confused about the sex? Is he scared? Does he still feel dirty? With the mask on, I know I can't know. But I can't accept it. Or can I? No. I'm too much of a 'mother hen'. Maybe that should be my new name. Or perhaps "The Paunch Of Justice"... I need to lose weight. But this is no time to think about me.

He's staring out the window, 'face' unreadable, hurming quietly. I wish I knew what that meant. What should I do? What will help him? What will make him feel more comfortable right now? After a pause I walk to him, softly but not sneaking, giving him fair auditory warning before wrapping my arms around him from behind. "You okay, Walter?"

He doesn't respond neither physically nor audibly. It's as if he couldn't hear me, but my lips are almost brushing his ear. A few tense moments pass, I watch his fingers grip the metal window ledge, he seems stressed. I try again. "Rorschach? Are you...mad at me?"

"Hurm. No. Nite Owl good friend. Necessary ally. Needed against Veidt..... Daniel also good friend. Necessary."

He doesn't explain how, but... this is enough. This is enough for me. I'm glad he's not angry. I know from watching him pummel enough thugs into coma or submission, that he could probably kill me. No, strike the probably. He could kill me. I'm sure he could. I can't believe I've risked myself like this. He's unstable, he's volatile, he could drop me from the owl ship and I'd disappear in the arctic snow. Forever. The thought turns my stomach, I can't bear to dwell on it. I pray Rorschach thoughts are not on the same wavelength as mine as I disengage and go to Archie's steering column.

Several minutes pass. Rorschach begins pacing, his platform shoes on and making irritating noises against the grated floor of Archimedes. The steering is very stiff. I don't like it, my bird is usually far more manuverable. I don't understand what could be wrong. I make a noise of irritation, and Rorschach is at my seat within a moment, left hand on my chair.

"How much further? Said we were over Antartica hours ago."

"Veidt's fortress is nearby, along the _coastline_. That's what I'm _following_." I pause, feeling more resistance from my pet. "Listen, I don't like the way Archie's _handling_. I'm going to take him _down_.

Rorschach seems to approve. "Sensible move. Make final approach low, beneath radar."

"I don't think we've got much _choice_. You feel that sort of _kicking_ in the engine, like it's about to _seize_?" It clicks for me. Fuck. I am a complete idiot. "Ice. Shit, I bet it's ice... I had him soacking on a _river bed_ all yesterday, then bring him straight into sub-zero _temperatures_! Why didn't I _think_?"

A gloved finger jabs my shoulder. Rorschach's left thumb, getting my attention. "Daniel....coming in too low towards cliffs...."

Shit, cliffs. Damn you Adrien, why did you have to make your damn palace so hard to get to?! Cliffs?! I try to pull up, but again, Archie's puttering, and refusing to do as I want him to.

"Don't wish to interfere with running of ship, but should perhaps pull up sharpble before..."

I interupt him, getting scared. "I'm _trying_! I'm _trying_ to pull him up, Goddamn it!" I pull harder, but am careful not to break the column. No need to panic, and accidentally make things worse. Finally I get some give. "_Wait_! Wait, I think it's coming. I think we've..." We crest the cliff unharmed. Thank God. "We've made it!

"Daniel...."

I don't want to hear it. I'm afrad of his criticsm, his impersonal tone. I don't want ot listen to him right now, so I force my own words over his. "It's _okay_, we _did_ it. We cleared the..."

"Daniel, engines just stopped."

Dammit. "What?!"

"Said: engines just -"

I hear it now. Or rather, I don't hear it. Engines aren't running anymore. That might be a problem. "_Alright_! Alright, I _know_! Jesus Christ.... Lemme try to _Whooo-ooah_!" Archie's falling fast, my stomach falling through the floor. And I'm seated. Rorschach grips my shoulder hard for a moment before quickly grabbing back onto my chair.

"Ennk...."

"Hold _on_ to something! I'm _losing_ it! He's _rolling_. I think we're going to...." And then impact. I doubt Rorschach's grip on the chair was enough, he's leaning to one side. "Ow. You okay?"

"Twisted ankle. Nothing serious. Landed on it badly night police took me. How bad is damage to ship?"

I'm glad he's not too hurt, smiling slightly as he stoops to grab his hat, trying to pretend it never left his head. "Difficult to _say_. Nothing I could fix given a few _hours_. It'd be _quicker_ to cover the remaining distance on the _hoverbikes_.The instruments put us within twenty miles of Veidt's _Fortress." _I turn, pulling a wardrobe out of the wall, and slidding a pannel to reveal the hoverbikes. "You break out the _bikes_ while I get into my _snow suit_..... You're sure I can't fit you out in something a little bit _warmer?" _

_"_Fine like this._" _Just like with the beans. Never wanting any heat from me. Never wanting me to warm his core. Rorschach sure is a strange one, and the mother hen in me is clucking fitfully. Can't force him though. No use trying.

"Well, whatever you _want. _Give me a second and I'll open the rear _door_ so you can _unload _those..."

"Used these when we took underboss. Remember riding along sewer." It's a fond memory. One of the first times I found myself staring at Rorschach the wrong way.

"God, _yes_! They knew we couldn't get _Archie_ down there so they thought they were _safe_. Then _you_ shoot out of that _tunnel_, with the _gas_ cloud, all the rats running ahead of you...man! Their _faces_!"

"Yes. Good night. Think of it often." It makes me smile behind my insane puffball suit to know that Rorschach thinks of me often, in a good light. That maybe I can get to Rorschach, not just Walter. Maybe I can make them be the same person again. With time, anything is possible."As I recall, controls simple; just two pedals and steering column."

"You got it." I glance back at Archie. "Tch. Look at that _ice_. Better fix it soon as we get back..."

"IF we get back."

"Yeah." I don't want to think about that. I need to believe that Rorschach and I will be together, that we'll both survive... his pessimism can't get to me. I won't let it. "Yeah. _If _we get back. I'm going to secure the ship _anyway_." I remotely lock the vehicle, though at the moment it's nothing more than a very sentimental and oversized paperweight. "There. Okay, I guess that's it."

We'll make this easy. I start, leading Rorschach, getting ahead. Just get in, get answers, get out. No one needs to get hurt. "What are we waiting for?"


	10. Cold

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle) Thanks so much to my informal beta, vaudeville.

* * *

Arctic colder than anticipated. Still don't wish for puffball suit. Daniel looks very.....

Daniel looks

Daniel is ridiculous. Childish, furry, fuzzy, warm suit.

..... lied. Want one. Not for public use. Would be grand slur on reputation. Rorschach gone soft. Getting cold. Tired. Need sugar. Daniel starts talking.

"Okay... there it _is_, up _ahead_. Looks like there's no option other than a direct approach. We can't creep _up_ without _cover_, and it's pointless waiting for _darkness _up here." I don't under stand. Can't we wait until night time? Daniel continues, "there _isn't_ any." Oh yes. Sun does shifts here, different. Learned a long time ago. Forgot. No lady night here, to offer up those who hide within her. Shudder, looks like shivering from cold.

"Untrue. Just isn't any of kind we can use. If Veidt truly engineering third world war, we are approaching the heart of darkness." Can almost feel tendrils of palpable evils emanating from our destination. The chills are not from fear, nor the cold. It's anticipation. Justice will be served. Adrien shall meet his doom if he is indeed the mask killer, responsible for upcoming Armageddon.

What if he isn't? Cold air brushes Walter's jaw, latex being pulled up. Hand in pocket. Sweet Chariot

"I've been _wondering_ about that. Those _brochures_, all that crap we took from his _desk_...the _tone _was wrong, somehow. Not_ optimistic _exactly, but ... well, planning for a _future_. It didn't read like someone out to carve a _headstone _for _humanity. " _Sugar on tongue, warm, sweet. Energy. "And _anyway_, this is _Adrien_ for God's sake! We _know_ him. He never _killed_ anybody, ever. Why would he want to destroy the _world_?"

Sugar makes 'ronch' noises between teeth. Swallow. Think. "Insanity perhaps?" Pull down face.

"Ha. Well, that's a _tricky_ one... I mean, who's qualified to _judge_ something like _that_? This is the world's smartest _man_ we're talking about here, so how can you _tell_? How can anyone tell if he's gone _crazy_?"

Mind drifts back to Archie, earlier, skipping over acts of debauchery. Daniel's voice loud, angry, finger pointing with accusations. "...Nobody complains, because they all think you're a goddamn _lunatic..._" Why was it so easy to assume my insanity, Nite Owl? Is it the face? Do the swirling blots making perfect sense make me insane? Is it the solitude? Is it the smell? Is it the conspiracies, the free thought, the air of not being part of the big machine? I'm different, true. We're all different. Comes with the line of work. But not insane. Not a lunatic. Veidt starting World War Three? Now _that_ is insanity. That is monstrous. If he is indeed guilty. Which he is. I'm sure of it.

For his crimes, he shall die. Or I shall. I pray to the whiteness here that darkness shall be vanquished. God doesn't kill children. God doesn't exist. May mortal me watch the devil draw his last breath, the world safe again for a time. A short time, a reprieve. This silence here is getting to me. Thoughts extending, distracting, undulating like shifting snow. Would talk with Daniel. Nothing to say. Never say Goodbye. Never compromise. Never love, never feel pain. Be Rorschach, the mask that is the face, the hero the city needs though does not deserve. More than city at stake here. World.

Heady thoughts. Like fine wine. Ha. Don't drink. Maybe have beer after all this? Daniel drinks beer. Wonder why. Fail to see appeal. Hurm. Cold. No. Rorschach numb. Strive for numbness. Numb but nimble. Failure. Can't be numb. Blushing. Also quieting giggles in chest. Daniel so silly, so puffy. Warm? Yes. Daniel warm. Warm inside Daniel. More blushing. Dammit. Stop. Stop. Walter thoughts. No no no, Stupid stupid stupid! So cold. Blushing warm. No. Can't. Shan't. Won't.

Do.

Love sucks.


	11. Silence

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

The world is white and silent. The noise from the scooters is muffled by my insulated cowl, and Rorschachs' voice stopped what feels like ages ago. There is nothing to say right now. We can talk every thing over after. Oh please YHVH, Adonai, Makom, whatever you like to be called, let there be an after. I'm not a religious man, but please. I've never felt like this before. This fear is so poignant, it's in my oversized gut, making me feel sick. Please let Walter get out of this okay.

I have so much to tell him. To explain, to _do_. I just want to make him happy, protect him... He looks so cold. I hope he's not getting frost bite. Damn, what if he gets hypothermia, or pneumonia? What if we make it through this adventure, but he dies in a month or two because of the exposure to the cold? What will I do if Rorschach dies?

.... Sleep with Laurie. While thinking of her. Damn you Rorschach. Damn you. Leaving me a loophole, a chance at a normal life if you don't make it out. No, I refuse to accept this... this cop-out. I won't quit. Not again, not after all of this, not after what happened in Archie, after seeing you slice into yourself with self loathing in your eyes, seeing you lose yourself above me, panting and sweating and cursing my name. Not after realizing and acting on love. Fuck the normal life. Fuck Laurie, who's off with Jon anyways, and probably won't come back. I'm not going to quit again, Rorschach. I hope he knows that. I really hope he does.

I'm shaken from my thoughts, eyes focusing on a palm tree. What the hell? A palm tree, half buried in snow. I shake my head. We're here. I turn back, words being snatched from my lips by the wind.

"On the left, I think I see an entrance. I'm going to open her up."

Rorschachs' voice sounds off, not just the wind. "What?"

There's no way he could have heard all that I said. So I point. Distantly I hear a 'hurm'. I approach the entrance tunnel thing, wary. Veidt might have booby traps, some kind of extreme security. Not that he's ever struck me as paranoid.

"Yeah... it's some sort of _door_. I think I can burn out the _lock mechanism_." I'm just talking to hear my own voice, and I think Rorschach is too. or he's losing it even more. He's starting at the tree.

"Palm trees, buried in snow. Doesn't make sense." I have to get him inside. The way he gets off the scooter, everything, his balance, I'm _sure_ that he's in the beginnings of hypothermia. I crouch at the portal, taking my laser light to it's spiraled workings.

"Please let's just get _inside_ and worry about one mystery at a _time_. All this _whiteness_, I'm feeling sort of _exposed_. Up _here_, we don't have any camouflage. We're out of our natural _environment_. "

There's a pause. Rorschach sounds concerned, but only barely. "Nervous?"

I think on the answer, distracting myself with the door, breaking the lock. "There. Open Sesame." Rorschach has resigned himself to what may come. Fine. "Well. My _stomach_ feels weird and my _balls_ are all shriveled up, so, yeah, I guess '_nervous'_ will do."

I step inside, along with a small avalanch of snow. Veidt's place. His lair. It's impressive, scary. I again muse aloud, not wanting to think of what might happen to Walter tonight. "Y'know this must be how _ordinary_ people feel. This must be how ordinary people feel around _us_. " Rorschach follows me inside. I'm glad. I keep rambling.

"Jesus, _look _at this place. I thought _I_ had some _stuff_ in the _owl's nest_...I mean, what the hell is _that_ thing? Half this equipment I don't even _recognize_."

Rorschach shoves things back on track. "Can ask Veidt, when we find him."

I don't want to find Veidt. I don't want Rorschach to die. No. I'm being silly. No one's going to die. Everything is going to be fine. It's all just Rorschach's crazy scheming getting to me. It's all a big misunderstanding. Veidt will set us straight. "Hm. Actually, that's a good _point_. How _do_ we approach him? What do we _say_?"

Rorschach stays by my side, as we wander, it feels like old times. Then he starts to speak, and the dread returns. "Nothing. Subdue him first, if possible. May not get second chance. Ask questions later."

I don't like that plan. It's got my guts squirming. But I can't disagree, not this late in the game. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. But it's going to feel awfully _strange_. He's such a caring, conscientious _guy_. He's a_ pacifist_, a_ vegetarian_... "

Rorschachs' tone chills my blood. "Hitler was vegetarian. If bothers you, leave Veidt to me. Suggest we proceed quietly from here."

And the silence stretches between us once again, my thoughts wandering to how this day may end. Rorschach wants to kill Veidt. It's clear now, to me. He wants to kill him, he's _sure_ of Veidts' guilt. As if Ozymandias didn't fight along side us more than once. Adrien's more apt to be a good guy than a bad guy, why can't Rorschach see that? If he's wrong, this is going to look so stupid.

But what if he's right? What if he's right, and Adrien is going to try to kill _us_? If he's trying to kill the world? If he's gone insane with power and riches and glory, and all that bullshit, and he wants to end it all in a torrent of fire and chaos? No way. Not Adrien. It's clear as we walk. Going through an anteroom now, a garden with pretty flowers in the middle. A wall of TV's on various stations, switching remotely, on a timer. Oh, stairs...I think I hear something.

I hope I don't. I don't want to find Adrien. I don't want to run the risk. I don't want Walter to get hurt. Suddenly, I pray for silence.


	12. Jealousy

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a t/ime slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle) Thanks so much to my informal beta, vaudeville.

* * *

Karnak warm. Feel much better now. Follow Daniel. Shut Daniel up. Continue to follow Daniel. Like being behind Daniel. Has nice re-

Will think of that later. Daniel gains distance on stairs, I slow, looking at giant portrait. Man, Veidt, cutting rope in half with sword. Why? Symbolism? Glance up, Daniel signaled stop. Sneak rest of stairs. Veidt, eating tofu, or some other hippy food. Let Daniel fall back as I stalk prey. Mere inches when thrown like ragdoll, sleeve pinned to table with fork, backhanded across face. Damn. Damn Damn Damn. Lost hat.

"Manners."

Bastard. Teaching me 'manners'. He's a murderer. Scum. Filth. Must hurt.... can't. pinned. Aha! Shield eyes, Daniel going to stun Veidt. Banter, pointless, Veidt beyond words....hear bone break. Look up. Daniel's nose. Adrien finishing job started on owl ship. Feel pang of guilt. Begin to work on freeing self.

"Now...what can I _do _for you?" Bastard pouring self wine. Daniel engages more banter, getting him face away from me. Finally pull metal free of wood, intending simple stab in back of neck. Am anticipated. Fork digs into tray. Face wrenched to side. Can't see right. Can't see right! Fixing face, feel fist connect. Cheekbone. Fall. Shoulder lands on hat. Good. Like hat. Monologue boring me. Daniel helps me up, hands lingering for moments longer than not time for this. Push them away. Will have time later, when Veidt dead.

Replace hat. Holding with right hand on Daniels left elbow for a moment. Ankle still hurts. Rorschach feels no pain. Rorschach feels no pain. Must fight, must win. Let go of Daniel, pursue man in purple. Still chatting. Words just ego boosting imagery, justification. Has back turned, no mirror this time. At railing. Can be pushed over. May be damaged in fall. Daniel stops me.

Points out Cat. Hate Cat. Animal will kill to protect master. Reminds me of Dogs. Roche case. No. Don't think...figure out how to take Veidt and Cat down at once. Rooms filled with weapons, armor. Must be something useful. Veidt _STILL_ talking. Daniel listening. Daniel soft. Should know better than to be manipulated by social prostitute. Don't trust Veidt's gaze. Don't trust Veidt, period. Daniel listening. Daniel soft, stupid.

Need to interupt. Need Daniel looking at ME, not him. Remind Daniel who is at fault here, who is insane, who is a murderer.

"Blake's murder. You confess?"

"Confession implies _penitence. _I merely regret his accidental involvement."

Impersonal bastard. Continues speaking, having gained half my attention. Something about genetics. Still glaring at Cat. Daniel voices a question, something about the end of war. Crazy man spews nonsense, alien attack. Daniel starts to laugh. Laughter not normal. Daniel scared. Will hurt Veidt, scaring my Daniel. Note flaw in his explaintation. He mentions teleportation, a key component of so-called plan.

"Said Teleportation unworkable." He admitted it moments ago. Crazy. Inconsistant.

Finally Daniel seeing reason. Veidt 'needs help'. Damn straight. Smile. suddenly disconcerted. Veidt's face. Serious.

"_Do_ it? Dan, I'm not a republic _serial _villain. Do you serious think I'd explain my _master stroke_ if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its _outcome?" _He slows his voice, speaking as if to retarded children. "I did it thirty five minutes ago."

He's telling the truth. No. No no no no no. Anger boils in veins. No. It's in my voice. Fists clenched. Want fair fight. "Take cat away, Veidt. Take cat away and face me..."

Daniel surprised by my vehemence. "Whoa." He puts a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me. Failing. "Adrien, I'm sorry, but I don't buy this _hoax invasion_ story. Come _on,_ what are you _really_ up to?"

Adrien sighs. Daniel is so childish, naive. Optimistic. Loveable, but foolish. "Very well. Once more: I engineered a _monster_, cloned it's _brain_ from a human psychic, sent it to _New York_ and killed half of the _city._"

Daniel still on my shoulder. "Adrien, that's _bullshit_."

"No. Telling truth. Listen to voice. He did it."

"Look, _nobody_ could do that. You're being-" Interrupt squable. Feel like old married couple. Insist.

"He did it. Half New York. Veidt, get rid of cat." Want to punch and punch and punch and kill and punch and make Veidt into a nothing.

"No, I don't _think_ so. After _all, _her presence saves you the humiliation of another _beating_." He knows I don't want to be weak in front of Daniel? Dammit, how does he **KNOW?!**

"Hurrr." Angry. Daniel and Veidt banter more. Boring. Swear Veidt subtly seducing Daniel with his brain. Cat makes ugly noise. Veidt checks TVs, . Miss Juspczyk. Wonderful. Wish had stayed on Mars. Perhaps Manhattan shall assist in termination of Veidt though. Hope so. Veidt does not seem happy to see them. Runs, dog with tail between legs.

"Bubastis, quickily". Like a comic book villian, he flees. Haha. He shall lose, soon. Why is Jon not persuing?

"No, don't let him escape. Must stop him. Killed Blake. Killed half New York." I point, frantic. His pace is slow, he sounds...high?

"Yes. Yes, he killed Blake and half New York. Excuse me, Rorscach. I'm informing Laurie ninety seconds ago."

Daniel notices too. "What?_ Where's_ Laurie?"

Don't like that. Fist clenches.

"Jon? Are...are you _okay_? You seem sort of...I dunno...._drugged_ or something...." Daniel and I need to talk.

"I-I'm sorry. It's these _tachyons_. They're muddling things _up_... I'd better follow him inside." Manhattan leaves us.

Take a mocking tone, pouting under my face. Under the latex. " 'Where's Laurie'?! Why do you CARE?"

"Jesus Rorschach. Jealous much? She's a _friend_."

"Hurmph. We'll discuss later. Don't like her."

Cat makes very loud ugly noises. Hope Jon skinning it.

Daniel pushes past, he see's Laurie. Half running? Bastard. She has a gun trained on Veidt. Perhaps not entirely useless. Though of course Dan knows a good many tasks she's capable of. I sneer. Don't like her.

Gunshots. Veidt's...dead? At Miss Juspczyk's hands? Good.

Good.


	13. Nostalgia

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a time slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle)

* * *

Was Walter just bitching at me from under Rorschach's face? Complaining about Laurie? I never thought I'd see that, certainly not so soon... I'm glad though. And it seems that Laurie just shot Veidt. I don't know what to make of that. Of her killing someone. Then again, it was for Jon. She loves him. I can see that, anybody can see that.

Holy Shit. Veidt just got shot point blank and he's not dead. He just kicked Laurie in the stomach. That _bastard_! You don't _hurt_ a _woman_! I'm outraged, and the idea that Rorschach might get the wrong idea flickers through my mind for only half a second, if that.

"VEIDT!" I'm pissed."Veidt, you _bastard_. If you've _hurt_ her, I'll..."

"Oh _Daniel. _Daniel, Daniel, Daniel...please... do grow up." The way he says my name gives me chills. I feel sick. He launches into _another_ of his boring monologues. He starts to walk, passing Rorschach, who for some reason doesn't take a swing at him. The cat's been zapped, along with Jon, though I don't think Rorschach was paying attention. Rorschach should be trying to pound Veidt's skull in.

Just before we enter the anteroom again, Laurie pulls me closer, whispering. "Jon kills Rorschach. He can't be... he can't be..." She starts to sob. I let her hold on to me,and let Veidt go on with his little power trip speech. Watch Laurie's' jaw drop. Watch even Veidt seem stunned, as a _giant_ Jon appears outside, and bursts a hand through the wall. I try to shield Laurie from the debris with my cape, letting Rorschach fend for himself for a moment, all the while hoping that a piece of granite squashes Veidt like a bug.

My moment of 'Jon can't kill Rorschach, Jon's dead' is shattered, completely ended, and brought to a total stop. No... No fuck. But I already feel myself resigning to it. Jon once said that he had no choice in what happens. Only that things happen, and he's aware of them in a different way than us. If Jon has seen himself killing Rorschach...then Rorschach is dead.

"**I am disappointed, Veidt. Very disappointed."**

Another monologue, just from a different source. And then Veidt turns on the TVs....and I nearly throw up. He _did_ do it. Rorschach was right. He's always been right. Always, always known the heart of the matter, the evil in Veidt, he's known _everything_. I've just been such a fool. I want to hug him now, hold him close and ... no. He doesn't want me near him right now, he's angry. I don't know why yet, but he's pissed at me.

Finally it comes to us being silent. If we talk, Veidt will kill us. I have no doubt. I value my life. I have something to live for. I have a lot to live for. "How...how can _humans_ make decisions like _this? We're _damned if we stay _quiet_, _Earth_ is damned if we _don't. _We.." I pause, wiping my mouth. I feel sick, I want Walter to chime in instead, I want to know that he'll compromise for me one more time. There is nothing but silence from the man under the mask. "Okay. Okay, count me in. We say nothing."

Rorschach finally speaks, and I know it's Rorschach, not Walter. "Joking, of course."

He strides to the door. My voice is frantic as I plead with him. The mother hen in me is flapping her wings, terrified. So this is how he dies. No! I can't let him. I can never completely interfere, but he has to _listen_! "Rorschach...? Rorschach, _WAIT! _Where are you _going_? This it too _big_ to be _hard assed_ about! We have compromise-"

"No." He cuts me off, not facing me, not facing any of us. Though there's no need, since none of the others know him like I do. Know one else knows he's crying, that under the mask he knows that he'll be stopped. That he's fighting for a lost cause. "Not even in the face of Armageddon." Another pause. I want to tell him I love him. He's waiting for it. But I can't. Not now, in front of Laurie, in front of every one. He hangs his head as the door shuts. "Never compromise."

My heart makes a tinkering sound as I feel it break into a million pieces. Of course he chose saving the world over me. That's reasonable. I shouldn't be worth more to him than millions of people. He can't care that this will just mean more people will die. It's the principle. I can make myself understand that. But I'll never like it.

I try not to feel out of my dept as Veidt the killer offers Laurie and I a place in his frigid home. Laurie realizes that Jon is gone, and I shudder. I know where he is. He's out there, with Rorschach. I pray to God that it's Rorschach, and not Walter. I want my lover to be as numb as possible when he passes. I don't want him to suffer. I let myself get trailed along by Laurie, slowly remembering the bet.I listen to her natter on. I want to tell her about me and Walter, but when I try, she lets me know that Jon might want to kill _me_. That he's mad at me for having slept with her. Oh boy, wouldn't that be wonderful. Die at the hands of Jon for sex I didn't even really want to have with a girlfriend I want him to keep.

She is a friend though. A good friend. Someone who I can relate to. She's a sane crime fighter, someone who used to dress up like a child at Halloween and kick the shit out of criminals. That's hard to find in someone. Someone who will tolerate you, at least. I've spread out my snow suit, for us to sit on.

She's crying again, talking about how the world is so sweet. She's holding my hands, we're sitting together... I don't know. I don't know how this should go. What about Walter. He's dead. I know he's dead. He must be by now. Oh Gods this hurts, in my chest, it hurts so much. I start to cry too.

"Laurie? Wh-what do you want me to _do_?"

"I want you to love me. I want you to love me because we're not dead."

Dead. Dead like Walter. Like Half of New York. The tears come faster. I can learn to love her. I can learn. It will take a while, but I can do it, I'm sure I can. I don't say anything, just trying to keep the grief at bay, the impact from sinking in.

"Here... take these off." She pushes away my goggles. "I want to _see_ you. I want to see you and _taste _you and_ smell _you, just because I _can_. What is that, Dan? What's that you smell of?"

It takes me a moment to remember. Rorschach stole my after shave. He smelled of it, strongly, under all the other scents. I choke back a sob. "Nostalgia."

Our lips touch, and I break a bet with Walter. I may have sex with Laurie. But I'll never think of her during it. My heart belongs to a man who died for all the right reasons in a world that is far too wrong for comprehension. I love him.

I always will.


	14. Death

Storyverse. Dan/Rorschach, mature, sexual themes and actions, some violence, spoilers. Not what really happened, but all takes place in a t/ime slot left blank by Moore and Gibbons, who own these characters. I only own my ideas. (first Watchmen fic, please be gentle) Thanks so much to my informal beta, vaudeville.

* * *

Cold again. Not even outside, freezing. Heart replaced with ice, vacuum. Damn him. Damn him and his hussy. Damn damn damn. Damn Me. Damn Stupid, stupid Walter. Damn love. Damn Walter falling into Stupid Love, getting hurt from it. Damn this world. Damn all this _bullshit_. Damn Jon, big and blue, stepping on a frozen butterfly.

"Where are you going?" As if he can't just look into the future and know. As if no unfair advantages.

"Back to owlship. Back to America. People must be told. Evil must be punished." Though I know damn well I can't get Dan's ship into the air. I can try. I can try damn hard. I get on the scooter, not starting it yet. It can't be this easy.

"Rorschach.... you know I can't let you do that."

I growl, turning to face the monster. I know there's nothing I can do against him. I know there is nothing I can do to spread the truth. Would I really want to? Veidt has saved lives? My real problem, my real reason for leaving... Jon's woman and **MY **Daniel. Can't say such a thing, though not surprised if Manhattan knows.

Pain in chest makes it hard to breathe. Tears streaming down face, down skin, real flesh. Tear off meaningless latex. "Of course. Must protect Veidts new utopia. One more body amongst foundations makes little difference. Well? What are you wating for? Do it."

I want to die. I hope he can see it in my eyes, I hope he knows damn well.

"Rorschach..."

"**DO IT!_" _**

And he does. He points at me, and the pain is more intense than anything I've ever felt before. I let it wash away my sins. I let it take me completely.

Why...why do I still have conscious thought?! Why... can't see, can't move, but think. If I can think... Shit. No. No no no no no!!! Stupid, Stupid!

This is hell.


End file.
